


Morphine

by MeltedIceAngel



Series: Found Family [1]
Category: TOMORROW X TOGETHER | TXT (Korea Band), 방탄소년단 | Bangtan Boys | BTS
Genre: Adopted Sibling Relationship, Adoption, Alternate Universe - Foster Family, Angst with a Happy Ending, Baby Choi Beomgyu, Baby Huening Kai, Baby Kang Taehyun, Bullying, Child Abandonment, Child Abuse, Child Choi Soobin, Child Choi Yeonjun, Child Neglect, Drug Withdrawal, Epilepsy, Eventual Romance, Exhaustion, Fainting, Family, Family Drama, Family Fluff, Feeding Tubes, First Words, Foster Care, Implied Childhood Sexual Abuse, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Mentioned GOT7 Ensemble, Mentioned NCT 127 Ensemble, Mentioned NCT Dream Ensemble, Mentioned SHINee Ensemble, Mentioned Stray Kids Ensemble, Mentioned WayV Ensemble, Parent Kim Seokjin | Jin, Past Child Abuse, Protective Choi Yeonjun, Protective Siblings, Single Parent Kim Seokjin | Jin
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-10
Updated: 2020-11-20
Packaged: 2021-03-03 22:00:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 18,349
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24652726
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MeltedIceAngel/pseuds/MeltedIceAngel
Summary: "The call ended with him driving as fast as the weather conditions would allow him toward the city’s main hospital. They had a little boy, born a month early and addicted to heroin. He’d been in their care for only a few hours, and after being denied by four other families, Seokjin had been their next best bet. Seokjin didn’t have time to dwell over how he’d been the fifth choice for the baby. It wasn’t like he had any experience, and the baby was in bad shape."-- Seokjin had always wanted to have a full family of adopted and fostered children. He believed that he could make a difference in these children's lives; give them something to hold onto even if they didn't stay with him forever. He had so much love to offer, and not enough souls to pour it into. Even when Seokjin got his first placement, he didn't back down. It was the hardest, most draining few months of his life, but he was still convinced he had more to give.
Relationships: Jeon Jungkook/Kim Taehyung | V, Kim Namjoon | RM/Kim Seokjin | Jin
Series: Found Family [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1782418
Comments: 50
Kudos: 185





	1. Aries

**Author's Note:**

> I'm turning comment moderation off with a lot of love and hope that people are going to be nice, lol. It's been a long time since I've had it off, even though I've never actually had to deny a comment. I feel open enough to do it now. 
> 
> Well, this is the first chapter of the rewrite of Long Lasting. Honest to God guys, I have to be honest, I couldn't read it to try and figure out where I was with plots and what not. I was cringing myself to Hell the entire time. (Didn't get to meet Taehyun, unfortunately). I hope you all understand since I know this starts differently! 
> 
> I don't have too much to say here yet. I have the first four chapters written, and I'm decently pleased with them. Especially in comparison. I hope you all enjoy as well.

Seokjin could remember a time in his life where storms terrified him. The sudden clap of thunder doubled with the luminous strike of lightning that would light up his chest with a fire like anxiety. As he grew older, the fear slowly tapered down until Seokjin found himself actively seeking out the best places to experience a storm. He’d found that his balcony was the best, especially when the wind wasn’t blowing the rain directly into his face.

That night, the rain was falling diagonal and away from Seokjin’s open balcony. He was cozied up with a blanket, laptop opened on his knees with his work profile pulled up, and the harsh downpour that was the perfect background noise to keep himself focused. Jeongguk was likely in a similar position in his own room, desperate to finish the paper Seokjin had told him to do _two weeks ago._

You really can’t help college students, sometimes.

Seokjin typed away, trying to knock out his own project before the sun had a chance to set. He was on top of the deadline, but he still wasn’t exactly a fan of having things looming over his head. If he had the free time and the motivation to do something a week before he had to, well, the only thing stopping him was himself.

The door to the balcony slid open to reveal his brother, a steaming cup in his hands. The silent shuffle over to the outdoor table and subsequent handoff of said cup revealed it to be tea, a small blessing when Seokjin typically had to remind Jeongguk at least three times a day he wasn’t a fan of hot coffee.

“Thank you,” Seokjin said with a small, exhausted smile. Jeongguk nodded and hummed. Not in the mood to talk, it seemed. That was okay; Jeongguk wasn’t exactly the most extroverted person Seokjin knew. He didn’t mind having his brother silently sitting in the chair beside him while he worked.

Seokjin submitted his project as the downpour turned to a trickle, and the last of the sunlight left them. Jeongguk had not moved, and although Seokjin hadn’t been worried initially, he sure was now. Jeongguk was staring off in the distance, chin settled on his knee. He didn’t have his phone or anything else to occupy his mind within the companionable silence. That meant his brother had been sitting there, doing nothing, for close to two hours.

“Penny for your thoughts?” Seokjin asked, and Jeongguk gave an almost imperceptible smile in response.

“Bit more expensive,” Jeongguk responded, and with a playful groan, Seokjin acquiesced.

“Two pennies?” Seokjin tried, and Jeongguk rolled his eyes.

“It’s just been a long time, hyung. You know, since you were accepted. Do you think they’re ever going to call?” Jeongguk asked, and it didn’t take a rocket scientist to know what Jeongguk was referring to.

Seokjin had applied to foster and adopt a year ago. It had taken a lot of time, a lot of effort, and a lot of missed days at work for it to come to pass, but it had. He’d been accepted and licensed and put on the list of available homes for children in the system. Jeongguk had been a bit overdramatic in saying it had been a long time since his acceptance. It had only been a little more than a month, but including the time it took to get accepted? Well, Seokjin had to agree on that.

“It’ll happen, Kook. Don’t worry,” Seokjin tried to soothe, but Jeongguk still pouted his lip out and didn’t look at him. For how much his brother wasn’t usually a fan of small children, he really was put out that none had invaded his space yet. No matter how big their house was, it still was housing four grown adults at any given time. Seokjin was just grateful his roommates were supportive of him.

“I just know how excited you are. You’ve been talking about this since we were kids, hyung. I’m pretty sure my first memory of you is you talking about adopting,” Jeongguk said, and Seokjin nodded, giggling at the image. It warmed his heart to know that his little brother was worried for him, and even more so that Jeongguk knew him so well.

“I’ve always got my phone on me,” Seokjin said, patting the cell phone shaped lump in his pocket. “What brought this up?” Seokjin pondered aloud, not sure if Jeongguk would respond or not.

“I don’t know. Nothing, I guess. It’s sort of always on my mind,” Jeongguk admitted, turning his face so he could better look at the still partially illuminated strip of sky. “Just really nagging at me today.”

“You’re still okay with it, right?” Seokjin prodded, making a conscious effort not to bite his nails.

“Of course! I’m totally on board, I just wish they’d hurry up,” Jeongguk exclaimed, turning his attention back to his elder brother. Seokjin smiled abashedly and looked down, fingers tapping rhythmically on the chair arm. He had hoped it would go faster, but what was there for him to do? It was a waiting game, and so far they’d done pretty well at it.

Seokjin, knowing his own luck, should have known the call would come dead in the night and when he was utterly unprepared. It was three am, a new storm raging outside his window. It took a few tired groans and a lot of blinking the sleep out of his eyes before he was able to accurately read the number, and once he did, he was flying out of bed.

The call ended with him driving as fast as the weather conditions would allow him toward the city’s main hospital. They had a little boy, born a month early and addicted to heroin. He’d been in their care for only a few hours, and after being denied by four other families, Seokjin had been their next best bet. Seokjin didn’t have time to dwell over how he’d been the fifth choice for the baby. It wasn’t like he had any experience, and the baby _was_ in bad shape.

Not only had Seokjin been called, however, but it was also an _adoption_ call. The baby was already free in the system and available for adoption. He tried not to get too excited. The woman had been adamant that the baby was in a lot of pain and would need a lot of extra care. She’d even made sure he knew it wouldn’t just be the next few months, either. The boy would need extra care for his entire life.

Well, if you’re going to do something, might as well go all in.

Seokjin arrived at the hospital and was guided back to the NICU, dripping wet and shivering in the cold air. Not the best way to meet the--hopefully--newest addition to his family, but there were more pressing matters to attend to. The nurse had stopped him just before they rounded the corner, a deep sigh pulled from her chest. “He’s in a lot of pain. He hasn’t stopped crying, and he’s been having _a lot_ of trouble with vomiting. I want to make sure you’re ready.”

“I’m ready,” Seokjin nodded without a moment of hesitation. The drive was plenty of time to talk himself into it. The nurse nodded and motioned him back. Almost instantly, Seokjin could hear the shrieking coming from one of the tiniest babies he’d ever laid eyes on.

The baby’s body must have been small enough to fit in the entirety of Seokjin’s hand. He seemed half the size of what he should have been, even born prematurely. The baby was so fragile looking--like paper-thin glass--that even when the nurse offered him a new set of clothes so he could hold the baby, he had hesitated. Seokjin was terrified of hurting him, and it seemed that even the smallest of touches would do so.

“It’ll make him feel safe and loved if you hold him,” The nurse consoled, and Seokjin turned instantly and accepted the new outfit.

The sleeves were too short, and the pants were a size too small, but that didn’t hold a moment of Seokjin’s attention. The second the baby was lifted into Seokjin’s arms, he was gone. Even through the shrill shrieks and desperate flailing, the baby was perfect. He had ten unbelievably little fingers and ten unbelievably little toes. His belly was round with baby fat, his legs thin yet still clinging to what may have been chubby legs had he grown properly.

Seokjin stumbled as he looked at the wet, blotchy face of his baby. Red cheeks, streaked in a way that looked like zebra stripes. No, Seokjin was quick to retract that. _Tiger_ stripes, for this baby was a fighter, no doubt. His nose was scrunched up and nostrils flaring wide with a yawn that momentarily cut his hysterical wailing, his eyes opening as his mouth closed—such a deep, rich brown. Seokjin found himself lamenting the loss of those open eyes as they closed with the baby’s newly vigorous cries.

It took so long for the crying to cease that the ward had begun to come alive with the morning. Nurses rotated shifts, babies were getting changed, washed, and fed, families were starting to return for visits. Seokjin checked the time only once, internally thankful that he’d finished his work. He didn’t have anything calling him back home before the baby was ready for him to go.

“Would you like me to change him?” A nurse popped up out of nowhere a while later, making Seokjin jump. He startled the baby, but with a few shushes and a bit of rocking, the boy was settled.

“I can do it. I assume he doesn’t have anything?” Seokjin’s lips twisted at the thought. The boy in his arms was likely wearing all he had to his name. With a jolt, Seokjin realized the boy didn’t even _have_ a name.

“No, but we have some extras. It would be a huge help if you could bring diapers and wipes to your next visit,” The nurse said, pulling an extra diaper and pack of wipes out and handing them over. Seokjin smiled happily and nodded. He’d send a text off to Jeongguk and see if he could bring some on his way to his morning class.

Oh great. Seokjin realized he hadn’t even told his brother where he was. When was the last time he’d looked at his phone? It had to have been around four, and it was nearing-- _one!?_ Jeongguk was going to kill him, and it was well deserved. With a grumble, Seokjin realized there would be no stopping before morning classes considering they were already over. Jeongguk probably didn’t even go.

Unable to do anything about it at the moment, Seokjin settled the baby down gently and worked to set up a space to properly change him. Diaper open and wipes ready. Now to deal with the explosion no doubt waiting for him--another fantastic by-product of the baby's withdrawal. They’d get through it, even if it made Seokjin gag sometimes.

Seokjin sang head and shoulders while changing the baby, not expecting much of a reaction. To his utmost surprise, the baby stared up at him curiously through the entire song, even cooing when he’d finished and didn’t move to sing it again. Being that the only sound he’d heard out of his baby’s mouth was hysterical, pain-filled cries, it was a pleasant surprise.

“Time for more medicine, angel,” A new nurse said, gently removing the baby from Seokjin’s care. It ached to see his baby get pumped with morphine, but he calmed a bit when he saw the noticeable decline in shaking and the slow blinking as the baby’s body relaxed. Seokjin sighed quietly, reaching into his pocket to grab his phone. He was _not_ looking forward to seeing what was waiting for him. Still, it would be smart to take care of it while the nurse had the baby.

Low and behold, Seokjin opened his phone to see fifty-two missed calls, and...a hundred thirteen missed texts! Seriously! You’d think he wasn’t an adult perfectly capable of taking care of himself. Having six very close friends was good for a lot of things, and he supposed being checked up on was nice. He just hoped they didn’t call the police.

Or worse, his _mother._

_Jeongguk: did you go to work?_

_Jeongguk: hyung, you left your laptop. Do you need me to bring it to you?_

_Jeongguk: hyung...I’m worried. No one else can get a hold of you either._

_Jeongguk: i called your work, and they said you aren’t there. I’m freaking out. Please text me back._

_Jeongguk: you better be dying somewhere! Seriously! Text me back!_

_Jeongguk: hyung. please. you’ve never just left without telling me, and it’s been six hours._

Shit. The most recent text was sent only five minutes before Seokjin decided to check his phone, so with a quick apology, he took his leave and called Jeongguk. Just as Seokjin expected, his brother picked up on the first ring.

“You better be in the damn hospital! How could you ignore me for _six hours?_ Are you out of your mind? What is wrong with you!?” Jeongguk screamed hysterically. Seokjin wondered if he went a bit deaf listening to the baby. The screaming didn’t hurt half as bad as he’d been anticipating.

Or maybe it was the fact he’d held the phone away from his ear in preparation for said screaming. Technicalities. “I got a call last night, they asked me to come to the hospital to be with him. I’m so, so sorry, Gguk-ah. Hyung should’ve called you,” Seokjin lamented, listening intently for any sign of Jeongguk panicking.

“You think? You could’ve at least left a note or sent me a quick text. Hey, I’ll be out! Hell, you could’ve woken me up. I’d have gone,” Jeongguk responded.

“I know. I’m sorry. I was just flustered and nervous. You should’ve heard what they told me, Gguk. Part of me thought if I didn’t hurry, he wouldn’t be here once I got here,” Seokjin sighed, rubbing at his tired eyes. “He’s so small. He has these tiger-striped tear tracks just caked into his face. And his eyes. His eyes, Kook! They’re so beautiful.” Jeongguk was quiet for a moment.

“What’s his name?” Jeongguk asked, sounding exhausted himself.

“He doesn’t have one,” Seokjin responded, looking at his baby sadly.

“You said tiger stripes?” Jeongguk asked, and Seokjin hummed in response. “Horangi...Beom. Beom could be the first syllable, what do you think?”

“They told me it would take big strides to get him where he needs to be,” Seokjin said, pausing. “Gyu. Strides. Beom-Gyu.”

“Interesting. Doesn’t that mean _vulgar_ or something?” Jeongguk chuckled, and Seokjin rolled his eyes.

“Energizing, but good try,” Seokjin dead-panned.

“Just make sure you use the right hanja, hyung,” Jeongguk continued to tease. Seokjin wanted to stick his tongue out but thought better of it, especially when he noticed the baby’s--Beomgyu’s--nurse was looking at him.

Beomgyu. That rolled off the tongue well.

“Hey, he needs diapers and wipes. Is there any way--”

“On my way! Preemie size, right? I’ll be there in an hour!” Jeongguk chattered, hanging up the phone without even a simple goodbye. Seokjin shook his head with a fond smile and pocketed his phone again. The nurse bowed as he entered the NICU, handing the squirming baby off.

“Hey, honey,” Seokjin whispered, running his pointer finger over the baby’s nose. “Beomgyu. What do you think?” The baby didn’t give him a response, but the lack of tears was enough for Seokjin to decide that the baby agreed with his name choice. The nurse, still fluttering around, peeked her head from behind his back.

“Did you decide on a name?” The nurse smiled warmly, and Seokjin nodded.

“Kim Beomgyu,” Seokjin said, and the nurse pulled the sticker proudly proclaiming _I’m a Boy!_ off of Beomgyu’s bassinet. She replaced it quickly, and Seokjin’s heart stuttered as he read it.

_Hi! My Name Is: Kim Beomgyu._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, the switch between "Kook" and "Gguk" is 100% intentional. 
> 
> https://www.buymeacoffee.com/meltediceangel (helps pay for medical school)


	2. Eileithyia

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It had been a week since Beomgyu had been placed with him, and it had been the hardest, most draining week of Seokjin's life. Nothing could have prepared him for the late nights, but even worse was the progression of Beomgyu's withdrawal. Although his baby had been in pain and upset the first day, lately, the crying just went on and on and on until he was so hysterical he was vomiting all over Seokjin's shirt. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, I'm really surprised by how many active readers I have on this story! I was pretty upset by the amount of views, but the amount of kudos and comments relative to those views is just...wow! I seriously appreciate when readers are active. It keeps me wanting to write more in depth and with more care.

Seokjin's heart ached in the way one's muscles might after exercising too hard for their current physical state. Staring at Beomgyu's shaking, pale, and splotchy body was enough to send Seokjin's thoughts down a familiar, self-deprecating spiral. Had he taken on more than he could chew? Was he not emotionally fit enough to handle this? 

It had been a week since Beomgyu had been placed with him, and it had been the hardest, most draining week of Seokjin's life. Nothing could have prepared him for the late nights, but even worse was the progression of Beomgyu's withdrawal. Although his baby had been in pain and upset the first day, lately, the crying just went on and on and _on_ until he was so hysterical he was vomiting all over Seokjin's shirt. 

It was getting hard for him to leave. It seemed like every time he was gone, something new or something terrible happened. In his hands were documentation papers on a seizure Beomgyu had around five that morning. He could've been there. He _should've_ been there, but instead, he was sleeping while his baby was suffering. Seokjin tossed the papers angrily to the side and pulled his phone out, trying to find something to distract from the anger and regret flooding through his body.

Jeongguk had promised to go to class, but Seokjin knew his brother was sitting in his car outside the hospital doors. He had his GPS up on Snapchat, and even if Seokjin wasn't the type to snoop, he did occasionally want to know Jeongguk wasn't getting into trouble. Seokjin assumed someone had told his brother about Beomgyu's seizure, and that's why he was there. It barely took any effort to imagine Jeongguk in his car, legs curled up and head resting atop of them, eyes staring at the doors as he watched people go in and out. 

_Seokjin: come inside. I know you're here._

_Jeongguk: thanks hyung :)_

Seokjin sighed and shook his head, amazed that his brother didn't even try to seem apologetic. Considering the fact Seokjin _paid_ for the class Jeongguk was skipping, he could have at least tried to act a little remorseful.

Although looking down at Beomgyu's fever-flushed chest, Seokjin couldn't fault Jeongguk for wanting to be close by. 

The room was getting too dark as he waited, suffocatingly oppressive at that, so Seokjin pulled out one of the only lullabies he knew all the lyrics to. He hoped it was enough to get Beomgyu's attention. The baby seemed to love music and singing. 

_Hush-a-bye, don't you cry,_  
_Go to sleep, little baby._  
_When you wake you shall take,_  
_All the pretty little horses._  
_Blacks and bays, dapples, and grays,_  
_Coach and six little horses._

Success! Beomgyu was looking intently at him. Seokjin's body warmed at the gaze, and although it didn't last as long as he wanted, it was still enough to push him forward. The nurses had told him that in another two weeks, Beomgyu would be able to recognize his face. Little, almost insignificant milestones that meant so much to Seokjin. 

There was something about being told there could be a multitude of disabilities your child might have that made _everything_ exciting. 

"I'm here!" Jeongguk whisper-yelled, waving good-naturedly to _all_ of the floor nurses. Seokjin looked up at his younger brother knowingly, but the man just waved him off. "Taken. They'll have to settle for someone else. Hey, you're single?" Seokjin whipped his head around to see if anyone had heard that come out of his brother's mouth, but no one seemed to be paying attention. 

" _Can you shut up?_ God, you're as bad as Taehyung sometimes," Seokjin groaned, thinking of his brother's boyfriend with both fondness and indifference. The latter mostly stemmed from Taehyung's brand new project to get Seokjin a significant other, justified with an exclamation of _'babies need two parents, hyung!'_ Seokjin had dead-panned and mentioned that any children of his would have six adults around, not including Seokjin himself. 

That, of course, didn't satisfy Taehyung's criteria. The man was born to love, no doubt. At least Seokjin knew his brother would never want for a more doting partner. 

"How's this little guy?" Jeongguk asked instead of responding directly, brushing his pointer finger over Beomgyu's cheek with a smile. His face dropped at the heat radiating from the baby, but Seokjin could tell Jeongguk was trying to keep up a facade of composure. 

"I'm worried. His temperature went up. I don't know how I'd react to him having a seizure, Gguk," Seokjin sighed, wiping his hand down his face. Even the thought was enough to get his heart rate up high enough, he'd be setting off one of the monitors. 

"Well, good. I'd be concerned if you knew how to react to something _you've never seen before,_ " Jeongguk said, rolling his eyes as if Seokjin was somehow dramatic. "You're not acting like yourself. You're so confident, usually."

"Sure I am! Because I'm me, and anytime I act like anything, I'm acting like myself," Seokjin responded. He could see the annoyance build up on Jeongguk's face, and somehow, seeing his brother's doe eyes all fired up made Seokjin feel just a tiny bit better about his life. 

"Hyung, you're putting too much pressure on yourself. Who knows how to play Mozart the first time they sit in front of a piano? This is going to take time. You can do it. Plus, he loves you!" Jeongguk cooed, lightly pinching Beomgyu's cheeks. 

"He barely knows who I am," Seokjin chuckled, trying not to let his brother know how much that made his heart bloom. Fine, making his brother feel as frustrated and defeated as he felt himself wasn't the answer. Why did Jeongguk always have to be so _nice?_

"Have you ever seen him when I hold him? Or the nurses? Come on," Jeongguk fell back into his chair, arms and legs crossing as he judged his elder brother openly. 

"You're just saying that to make me feel better," Seokjin rolled his eyes. Jeongguk _guffawed_ , making the tiny baby in Seokjin's arms jump again. Perhaps Beomgyu would grow up to be a bit less of a scaredy-cat than Seokjin or Hoseok. He was, for sure, getting a good introduction to random loud noises at the very least. 

"When have I ever said something just to make you feel better? And sorry, Beommie," Jeongguk's tone went from flippant to caring like a ball rolling down a hill. Seokjin really tried to think of a time Jeongguk was that considerate of his feelings, and with a irked grumble, Seokjin realized Jeongguk had _just_ done so. Not that he would admit it. The last thing Seokjin needed was a Jeongguk with a newly revitalized ego galavanting off and telling everyone he made Seokjin feel like flowers on the first day of spring, all because he pointed out the obvious fact that his son liked him the best. 

"Fine, prove it. I have to pee," Seokjin said, lifting himself up and handing Beomgyu over to Jeongguk. Instantly the baby's breath was hitching, big brown eyes filling with tears. Jeongguk looked up with raised brows and a smug smirk. "Don't even. I'll be right back. He'll get used to you."

Beomgyu, in fact, did not get used to Jeongguk. Seokjin hadn't taken his time, but the bathrooms were far, and he wasn't trying to step on toes or trip in the middle of the hallway to get there quicker. Once he'd finished and washed his hands, he returned to find Beomgyu hysterically screaming in Jeongguk's arms. Jeongguk was rocking Beomgyu side to side, pacing the length of the room. It didn't help at all; Beomgyu was still overwrought. 

"Goodness, he must be in pain," Seokjin whined, reaching out to take his baby from Jeongguk's arms. With a relieved sigh, Jeongguk all but tossed Beomgyu back into his potential adoptive father's arms. 

"No, he just doesn't like me as much as you," Jeongguk said, and Seokjin's rebuttal was squashed as Beomgyu relaxed in his hold. His cries slowly died down, and it gave Jeongguk enough of a reprieve to bend down and grab Beomgyu's brown and white pacifier off the floor. "I'm going to wash this. You… do whatever it is you do." 

That was a problem because Seokjin wasn't entirely sure _what_ he did. The entire week he'd spent with Beomgyu had been a repetitive cycle of hold, change, feed, watch as he was pumped with medicine, and do it all again. Seokjin was informed that Beomgyu was inconsolable a few times. Still, usually, he received another message letting him know the baby had fallen asleep soon after. Seokjin flipped through his messages from the past week, landing on the ones sent from Beomgyu's social worker. 

_Moon Jaeah (02:42): Mr. Kim, Beomgyu is having a pretty bad night. He hasn't slept, and we've been unable to soothe him. The nurses aren't going to up his morphine. We're nearly sure that his distress is emotional. Would you like us to keep you updated?_

_Kim Seokjin (02:53): Yes, thank you._

_Moon Jaeah (04:52): Beomgyu finally nodded off._

_Two hours?_ Maybe Seokjin needed to pay more attention to time. How did he keep convincing himself only half an hour--perhaps an hour--had passed, when he was missing two, three, or worse, _six?_ Seokjin was sure Beomgyu could be well into his thirties, and Seokjin would still be convinced only a year had passed. 

Okay, maybe Beomgyu was a bit attached to him. That made sense, though, didn't it? Seokjin was one of the few parents who were around as much as he was. Seokjin found himself rushing through a coffee shop line at 07:00 and not making it home until 02:00 daily. That left him with an hour to shower and check his emails, three hours to sleep, and an hour to get ready and grab his coffee before heading back to the hospital.

Even Jeongguk, the only other person allowed to be with Beomgyu until his condition improved, was only around a fraction of that time. An hour a day, maybe two if his classes finished early. Seokjin knew he would stay longer, but after beating into him that he had to keep going to class to actually pass his class, he seemed to come to his senses.

Except for today, that is. 

"I think it's clean enough," Jeongguk came back around with Beomgyu's washed pacifier. Seokjin took it and gave it to the baby, watching with awe as he suckled and allowed his eyes to close. His pacifier was stamped with the image of a chubby, smiling bear holding his paws up excitedly. It had been the first one Seokjin had laid his eyes on, and he'd snatched it up instantly. 

Seokjin acknowledged that they'd named Beomgyu with fierce, spirited tigers in mind. Still, the bear reminded Seokjin of Beomgyu when his arms would shoot up as he stretched-- absolutely precious. 

"It almost hurts how cute he is," Seokjin groaned, trying to hold back an open cry of affection. Jeongguk smiled and nodded, running his fingers over the tuft of hair on Beomgyu's head. 

"You got really lucky, hyung," Jeongguk whispered. Seokjin nodded and bit back a sniffle. He'd been the fifth choice for Beomgyu. Even Moon Jaeah, professionally known as Mrs. Moon, had admitted that they couldn't have found a better fit. Was this random luck or fate? Did he even believe in fate and destiny and all that? 

It didn't matter what he believed; Beomgyu was still nodding off in his arms, shaking and sick, but relaxed in a way that surprised even the most veteran nurse. Any number of people could be in Seokjin's place, rocking the baby in the most rickety rocking chair he'd ever seen, but they weren't. _He_ was.

"You okay?" Jeongguk whispered, interlocking his fingers. Seokjin smiled, a bit overwhelmed, and nodded. 

"Yeah. Never been better," Seokjin said. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this is almost completely unrelated to this story, but do any of you have any experience with the "little headspace" community? I'm just curious and a bit lost. I was wondering if it had anything to do with DID, because I have a couple people requesting little stories on my Instagram and I don't want to be seen as insensitive for using littles and not addressing the trauma and pain people with DID go through that causes little alters to form. I tried looking on Reddit, and people seemed very upset that littles are used in that manner, but I'm wondering if it's a misunderstanding and it's something else entirely. If any of you have any idea, I'd be so appreciative. I don't like denying requests, but I feel like it's touchy and if I'm going to do it I want to do it right. 
> 
> https://www.buymeacoffee.com/meltediceangel (helps pay for medical school)


	3. Aphrodite

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I haven’t seen neither hide nor hair of you in almost two weeks. I know it doesn’t seem like a lot, but it was weird. I missed you coming by the studio,” Namjoon said. Seokjin had another sudden realization of how much time had really passed. Maybe for him, two weeks seemed like an insignificant blip with how much had been happening, but for his other friends? That must have felt like forever. 
> 
> “I’m sorry. I didn’t think about it that way. I just get so worried about leaving Beomgyu--” 
> 
> “You don’t have to explain yourself to me. I completely understand. I just miss you, that’s all,”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What do you mean it's Sunday? Wasn't it Friday like, an hour ago?

Seokjin had hit the point he could no longer slide around the fact he did, in fact, have a job. He had two upcoming projects with deadlines switching from green to red, letting him know in no uncertain terms that he had less than twenty-four hours to turn them both in. Wonderful. It looked like Beomgyu would be spending a fun day with the nurses or a volunteer at the hospital. 

Seokjin grumbled as he grabbed his keys and bolted out the front door, intending to keep up his routine of a seven am coffee run at least. His car started smoothly, and with little care, Seokjin pulled up Spotify and tossed his phone onto the wireless charger. The orange light didn’t blink on, cluing him in to the fact his phone wasn’t charging. He took a few seconds to move his phone around, trying to find a spot that would kickstart the charge, but nothing worked. It was going to be a _great_ day. 

Seokjin pulled into the drive-thru for his daily coffee fix and waited in the abnormally long line. He took a glance at his car’s dashboard and saw a lovely _Saturday_ blinking back at him. Why were there so many people there on a Saturday? He’d assumed only he was crazy enough to save all of his work for the weekend. 

He occupied himself with trying to fix his phone again before it was his turn to order, “Can I get a large iced Americano, please?” 

“We’re all out of large cups, sir. Can I get you a medium?” The woman informed him, and Seokjin resisted the urge to slam his head down onto his steering wheel.

“Two mediums, please,” Seokjin grumbled, and the woman cheerfully read off his total and told him to pull forward. By the time he had his two blessings from God in his hands, the clock was informing him that he had been in line for nearly half an hour. He had another half an hour to drive before he would be at his office building. He happily began to sip slowly at his coffee, trying not to allow the pessimism to submerge him. He might actually be able to enjoy them this time. 

He was caffeinated and sated by the time he arrived at his office. He left the first empty cup in his car for later and grabbed the second, still three-fourths of the way full, and made his way to the front door. It took him a bit of awkward fumbling and a close call with his coffee cup tilting to the side, but he managed to get his keys and unlock the door. Dark and empty, just as he’d expected. How exciting. 

He plopped down at his desk and got set up for the day. Pen and paper, computer logged in, Docs and Excel ready to go. He cracked his knuckles and stretched out his neck, ready for the next few hours of non-stop typing. He got to work, not pausing once as he laid out spreadsheets, pulled together itineraries, emailed potential investors, and set up the pamphlet for their next office meeting. 

He managed to get one of his projects turned in just as the clock hit 12:00. Pleased, Seokjin flopped back into his chair, a small smirk on his face. Maybe procrastinating wasn’t as bad as he thought it was. Jeongguk might actually have something going for him. 

With his brother in mind, Seokjin pulled out his phone to check his recent messages. With a slight hiss, Seokjin unlocked his phone. He had five missed texts from Mrs. Moon, and double that from Jeongguk. Immediately his mind turned to Beomgyu, and all that could have happened in the four hours he’d been working. 

_Mrs. Moon: Morning! I hear your brother will be here for Beomgyu today. I do hope you have a good day and manage to get all of your work done._

Well, that was nice! For sure not at all what he’d been expecting at the very least. To hear that Jeongguk was going in his place was also a bit of a surprise, but not a huge one. Jeongguk, though nervous around the baby, loved to be with him. Maybe this would be a good chance for Beomgyu and Jeongguk to bond. 

_Mrs. Moon: We have new friends! :) *image attached*_

The most recent message had Seokjin quietly crying out, his heart clamping up. Jeongguk was lying back in one of the more comfortable cushioned chairs, eyes drooping as he stared at Beomgyu asleep in his arms. Most of his fifteen-minute break was taken up just staring at the photo, and it took a lot of self-control to swipe out of it and go to check Jeongguk’s messages. 

Half of the messages he found were photos of Beomgyu, and the other half were just Jeongguk letting him know where he’d be. One day Seokjin would teach his brother to send a text as one giant one instead of five little ones. Pushing that minor annoyance aside, Seokjin flipped through the photos, taking extra time to just take in the baby’s features.

He hadn’t had a lot of time to observe Beomgyu so still. It was then that he saw how his baby’s little fingers poked out from underneath the gauze wrapped around his pink and wrinkly hand. Were all babies’ hands that way? Like they’d just gotten out of a pool? Seokjin flipped to the next photo, staring intently at Beomgyu’s eyes. Seokjin couldn’t fathom how a baby’s eyes could be so deep and dark. Even Jeongguk, who had been born with dark eyes, still had that tint of grey. 

Seokjin pulled up his Facebook on his work computer, hoping that he wouldn’t get in too much trouble since he was technically working on his off day. He clicked on his mother’s page, scrolling down until he found Jungkook’s birthday post. The photo was old, and a bit blurry, but Seokjin still held his phone up, Beomgyu’s photo side-by-side with Jeongguk’s. Yes, side by side, it was much easier to see. There was no hint of blue or grey in Beomgyu’s eyes.

Seokjin would like to imagine that this was special. That his baby was even more of a unique, remarkable individual because of this minor detail. Unfortunately, all it took was one Google search to find that wasn’t entirely the case. Oh well. Who needed physical attributes to define something so far-reaching as uniqueness? Beomgyu was Beomgyu. There would never be another. He was, for all intents and purposes, one of a kind. 

Finding that he was spending far too much time gushing over his baby, Seokjin put his phone away and settled himself back in to work. He’d used up all the time he could’ve had to run out and get lunch, but he wasn’t feeling hungry anyway. He’d survive until he finished. 

“Why, why, why can people not do simple addition and subtraction? Seriously! Eight thousand plus sixteen thousand is not twenty-six thousand. Who did this?” Seokjin complained to himself. He spent an entire hour of his time re-doing math to properly get the budget for the month fixed and ready to go. By the end of it, he was prepared to pour his own savings into basic math classes for the entire staff. Nine squared does not mean nine times two, whoever did this God awful spreadsheet. 

“You look frustrated,” Seokjin turned, startled by the new voice. His heart rate calmed immensely when he saw Namjoon standing in the doorway. “Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you.”

“You know that you could’ve warned me in advance, and I’d still have jumped,” Seokjin chuckled, motioning for the man to join him. Namjoon walked in with a smile, happily placing a take-out bag on Seokjin’s desk. 

“I figured you wouldn’t go out to get anything. Jeongguk sent everyone those photos,” Namjoon chuckled, grabbing a chair from another desk and pulling it next to Seokjin’s. His friends knew him so well, Seokjin thought fondly. He’d have to make sure to pay Namjoon back if he ever remembered to pull cash out of the bank. 

“Did you get anything? I don’t like eating alone,” Seokjin said, waiting for Namjoon to settle before moving to open the bag. Namjoon hummed and moved forward when Seokjin began to struggle, ripping the bag open at the sides. He pulled out a steaming bowl and plastic container for himself, pushing the rest of the contents back at Seokjin. 

They ate in companionable silence, only broken by the clicking of spoons and chopsticks against the table as they settle them down. Namjoon seemed to be staring an awful lot at Seokjin, and it made him a bit uncomfortable. Still, he tried to ignore it in favor of finishing off the rest of his meal while it was still hot. 

“It’s good to see you,” Namjoon said, breaking the silence abruptly. Seokjin looked up at him curiously, swallowing his food and wiping the remnants off his lips. 

“What do you mean? We see each other all the time,” Seokjin asked. Namjoon smiled a bit bitterly, looking down and stabbing his chopstick into an innocent dumpling. 

“I haven’t seen neither hide nor hair of you in almost two weeks. I know it doesn’t seem like a lot, but it was weird. I missed you coming by the studio,” Namjoon said. Seokjin had another sudden realization of how much time had really passed. Maybe for him, two weeks seemed like an insignificant blip with how much had been happening, but for his other friends? That must have felt like forever. 

“I’m sorry. I didn’t think about it that way. I just get so worried about leaving Beomgyu--” 

“You don’t have to explain yourself to me. I completely understand. I just miss you, that’s all,” Namjoon consoled, patting Seokjin a couple times on the back. It didn’t feel as intimate as the way Namjoon used to wrap his arm around his shoulders or ruffle his hair, but it was something. 

“How’s Yoongi?” Seokjin asked, and that earned quite the look of confusion from Namjoon.

“You live together?” Namjoon said, and Seokjin’s nostrils flared. 

“Like you said, I haven’t been around much lately. I haven’t seen Hoseok either,” Seokjin admitted. Namjoon hummed and nodded, settling his chopsticks down and working to clear their food cartons from the table. Once everything was cleaned up, Namjoon launched into a retelling of the last few weeks.

“Yoongi’s been working on a new composition for a group that’s supposed to debut in two months. New boy group. They’re debuting with a pretty soft album, kind of cutesy, so we’ve been struggling,” Namjoon said. Seokjin took a moment to think their issue over, coming up empty. Seokjin wasn’t the writing type. Any thoughts he had were usually scattered and all over the place, made worse by his excitable nature. 

How he managed to end up working in Business of all things was beyond him. 

Although, Seokjin did know someone good at that sort of thing. “Jeongguk is good at writing cutesy, soft songs. Have you tried asking him?” Seokjin pondered aloud. Namjoon smiled knowingly, as if he were about to reveal a secret Seokjin wasn’t supposed to be privy to. 

“Jeongguk hasn’t been around either. As far as I know, either he’s always at school or in the parking lot of the hospital,” Namjoon said, and Seokjin groaned. His brother was going to fail his spring semester. Maybe it wasn’t too late to switch him to online classes so Seokjin could bore holes into his back until he finished his work. “Give him a break. He’s a good kid. And an adult, but we can glance over that.”

“I’m giving him lots of breaks. I’m just worried about him. He _just_ turned twenty, and don’t forget he wasn’t exactly raised by the best of the best. Pretty sure my dad would see an F on his report card and just be happy he went,” Seokjin shook his head. Namjoon studied him carefully, making Seokjin’s skin prickle. 

“You know, maybe he doesn’t like his major? I know you’ve been dealing with this longer than Beomgyu has been in the picture,” Namjoon said, and Seokjin took a moment to mull that over. Jeongguk had reluctantly applied for a law program at a university in Seoul. He’d grumbled and stomped his feet and begged to go into anything else, but even Seokjin had been firm in the decision. Jeongguk was smart and a top student. It would be a waste to do anything else.

“Stop, you’re making me realize I’m like my mother, and I don’t like it,” Seokjin held up a hand, earning a laugh from his companion. Seokjin’s heart did a funny little flip at the sound, and he was forced to take a deep breath to calm himself down again. 

“How about this? I use the song as an audition for Jeongguk. If he does well, I can take him on as a low-level assistant. The company will help pay for him to get through a music, production, performance, or acting program. Although I’d prefer it if it was production and music. I’d be able to have him as a full assistant then,” Namjoon offered, and Seokjin looked up at him to gouge his sincerity. Namjoon’s eyes were unwavering. 

“Okay. I won’t say no to that. I’d like to see him enjoying the thing that takes up so much of his time, at least,” Seokjin said. Namjoon smiled so brightly it lit up the dull, empty office space, and Seokjin had to look away to keep from being blinded. 

“He’s going to have to really commit, though. I love him, but he hasn’t exactly been a model student,” Namjoon winked, showing that he wasn’t being overly serious. Still, Seokjin could see that Namjoon meant what he said.

“Jeongguk is a hard worker. He wouldn’t have been accepted if he wasn’t,” Seokjin defended, and Namjoon just nodded and reached out a hand. Seokjin took it with an overdramatic eye roll, letting Namjoon shake his arm up and down like a limp noodle. 

“We have a deal, then!” Namjoon said. 

“We have a deal,” Seokjin readily agreed. 

“Now, why don’t you tell me all you can about your adorable baby that stole you away from me?” Namjoon said, propping his head upon his hand, elbow settled on Seokjin’s desk. Seokjin looked longingly at the remaining half of his work but resolved to have it finished before six instead of five. Even if an hour wasn’t half the amount of time Seokjin could talk about Beomgyu, it seemed to be a good compromise. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> https://www.buymeacoffee.com/meltediceangel (helps pay for medical school)


	4. Hygieia

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm a bit unhappy with this chapter. I swear, there's no simplified way to research NAS. It's all academic articles with the biggest, most complicated words I have ever read. I did my absolute best to make sense of it. I'm not from the US or Korea, so I'm not sure if the scoring system is the same there. 
> 
> Honestly, not having English as a first language is becoming a serious hindrance to my medical stories. I can get a solid background from my main language, but then I have to go and learn all the correct terms and verbiage for everything in English. My brain hurts, but at least I can say I'm learning something new daily! Expanding my vocabulary! Woo! Help!
> 
> EDIT: Speaking of which, I just read that if their score is over 8 they’re re scored every 2 hours, not 4, but then I read another that said 4. My head hurts.

Namjoon decided to stick around while Seokjin finished the rest of his work, citing the fact he needed to discuss their deal with Yoongi and their boss before heading out. Seokjin didn’t argue; it was nice to have some company that was on the same footing as him. It was a bit tiring, not having friends around. He loved his brother and his baby, and the nurses were easy to hold a conversation with. Still, there was just something nice about having Namjoon beside him.

Namjoon ended up borrowing a laptop and setting up next to Seokjin. That had the superb effect of loss of concentration on Seokjin’s end. How was he supposed to focus on his work with Namjoon staring so intensely at his computer, his eyes furrowed, and his pointer finger pressed up against his lips? Nope, Seokjin told himself. _Stop staring at his lips._

It was bewildering how Seokjin expected compliance from Jeongguk when he couldn’t even listen to himself. 

It took until 18:24 before Seokjin was finally finished with all that needed to be done. He sent off all the requested documents and wiped the exhaustion off his face. It was a bit of a wasted effort, for he still felt just as tired once he’d rubbed his eyes so hard he was seeing stars. 

“Done?” Namjoon asked him, gently brushing a strand of loose hair out of Seokjin’s eyes. The responding shiver that shook Seokjin’s whole body was a by-product of the chill in the air, he’d wanted to say, but Namjoon’s knowing smirk was enough to tell Seokjin the excuse never would’ve worked. 

“Yeah, finally,” Seokjin sighed. He reached over and grabbed his phone, unlocking it when he saw more messages from Jeongguk. 

He froze, his heart plummeting to the floor.

“I have to go,” Seokjin jumped up, not bothering to grab anything except his keys as he ran. He was vaguely aware of Namjoon following behind him. Still, all his brain could focus on were those words glaring menacingly at him from his phone screen. 

_Jeongguk (18:01): Beomgyu had another seizure. He stopped breathing._

Seokjin threw himself into his car and barely jumped when Namjoon climbed into the passenger seat. Seokjin took a moment to calm his shaking hands, his fingers struggling to press the needed buttons on his car’s dash to call Jeongguk before they could leave. Finally, the call went through, the ringing loud and filling up the entirety of the vehicle. Seokjin didn’t wait for him to pick up before he was backing up, tires screeching as he flew out of the parking lot.

“Hyung?” Jeongguk answered, his harsh, panting breath still discernible even over the poor quality audio.

“Are you okay?” Seokjin asked instantly. 

“I don’t know. I don’t know, hyung, he just… He was fine! And then he wasn’t moving, and then he was, but it wasn’t normal, and then he threw up, and he wasn’t _breathing,_ ” Jeongguk rattled off. Seokjin shushed him.

“Everything’s going to be alright. He’s in the hands of capable doctors. Did they tell you anything yet?” Seokjin asked, and Jeongguk gave a small hum in response. 

“He started breathing again quickly. They were saying something about his serotonin being low. I didn’t understand half of what they were trying to tell me,” Jeongguk admitted, and Seokjin’s heart ached for his brother. He couldn’t imagine having so much information thrown at him while being as panicked as the man sounded.

“Don’t worry, Gguk, they gave me the report on it last time, remember? I know what’s going on, you don’t have to worry. Can you go find somewhere to sit for me?” Seokjin asked, and Jeongguk didn’t verbally respond. Seokjin could vaguely hear shuffling on the other side of the phone, and a small grunt as Jeongguk presumably plopped down onto a chair. “Do you need me to call Taehyung?”

“No. I’m okay. He can’t be here anyway,” Jeongguk responded with a wet sniffle. Seokjin looked pleadingly over at Namjoon and was happy to see the man was already dialing Taehyung’s number. 

“No, but he can be out in the hallway. He can be out in the lobby,” Seokjin tried to soothe, knowing that Taehyung would be there whether Jeongguk agreed or not. Of all the words in Taehyung's vocabulary, _no_ was not one he typically took too kindly to. Especially when it came to Jeongguk and his wellbeing. 

“I’m embarrassed. I look like a mess, hyung,” Jeongguk said, broken off by a small sob. “That was terrifying. I thought he was going to die in my arms. He just stopped breathing. I didn’t know what to _do._ ” 

“Jeongguk, listen to hyung. You are safe. You are okay. Everything is going to be just fine. I’m about half an hour away from the hospital, but Taehyung is on his way, okay? I want you to go out with him when he gets there. There’s nothing you can do for Beomgyu right now. He’s in capable, trained hands. He will be okay,” Seokjin said. A little voice in his head spoke up, tauntingly whispering that he was lying. That he had no idea if everything was going to be okay. He tried to shove the voice away, lock it behind a wall of confidence he'd so painstakingly worked to build. 

“No, Taehyung can’t… Okay. Okay, I will,” Jeongguk agreed. Seokjin sighed in relief and looked over at Namjoon, seeing that the phone had been on speaker the entire time. Namjoon had simply allowed Taehyung to hear what was being said instead of telling him exactly what was going on. Strange tactic, but Seokjin couldn’t fault him. 

Through the phone, Taehyung said, “I’m on my way now. Jimin and I are about five minutes out. See you there.” The line cut and Namjoon pocketed his phone. 

“Are you okay if I hang up?” Seokjin asked, and Jeongguk didn’t respond for so long they’d hit the highway that would take them to the hospital. “Kook, if you don’t want me to hang up, I won’t. Just tell me.” 

“No. I don’t,” Jeongguk said, soft and inarticulate, but Seokjin had long learned to understand his brother's anxiety-ridden speech.

“Okay, I won’t. If you want to talk, I’m still here. Namjoon-hyung is here too,” Seokjin said, and Jeongguk once again was clammed up and silent. The two occupants of the car looked at each other in concern. 

After Beomgyu’s first seizure, Seokjin had been warned it might happen again. Breathing troubles and all. Was he a bad parent for not immediately looking more into it? Seokjin had assumed the breathing troubles had lasted a second or so at most, but the way Jeongguk reacted made it seem like it had lasted much longer. To be afraid that Beomgyu would die in his arms… It had to have gone on for some time. 

“Can you do me a favor?” Seokjin asked, and Namjoon nodded. “Get in there and grab Beomgyu’s seizure documentation from a few days ago.” Namjoon popped open the glove box and pulled out a large stack of papers. He sifted through them before pulling a stack of three or four pages out, all stapled together. 

“Here it is,” Namjoon said. 

“Can you read to me what it said under what happened? The list of observations,” Seokjin requested. No matter how many times he’d read it, he was beginning to doubt. There was no way Jeongguk would be reacting like that if it was as simple as what he could immediately recall implied. 

“Well, the list of things that they say happened were smacking lips, fluttering eyes, leg tremors, and a pause in breathing,” Namjoon read off, and Seokjin realized where he must have been mistaken in his reading. How long, exactly, was a pause? Why was there not a definitive number on the paperwork?

“Jeongguk, do you know how long he stopped breathing?” Namjoon spoke up. 

“I don’t know. Maybe ten, fifteen seconds?” Jeongguk said, and Seokjin’s heart thudded. Okay, so it wasn’t as long as he’d been afraid of, but that was a _long_ time in his untrained mind for a baby to simply stop breathing. He’d need to research more to find out if an angry parent rant would be justified. Even if it would make him feel better, it wasn’t fair to anyone to just go off for no reason. 

They lapsed back into silence. Namjoon was staring at Seokjin, hand periodically shooting up and falling back to his lap. The motion frustrated Seokjin so much he wanted to shout out _do whatever it is you’re going to do,_ but he kept his mouth shut. After another few minutes of this, the sound of Jeongguk sobbing pierced through the dead air of the car. 

“Jeongguk?” Seokjin said, his panic making him take his eyes off the road. Namjoon screeched and yelled out for Seokjin to pay attention, and it was at the last second Seokjin avoided flying right off the road. “I’m sorry!” Seokjin screeched.

“It’s okay, just please don’t kill us before we get there,” Namjoon begged, and Seokjin felt that was a reasonable enough request. 

Both of them relaxed considerably when they heard what was happening on the other side of the call. Taehyung’s voice filtered in, far away and hard to hear, “Hey, I’ve got you. I’ve got you. Come on, let’s go sit in the cafeteria, okay?” 

“But Beomgyu--” Jeongguk began to say, and both Namjoon and Seokjin’s rebuttals were cut off by Taehyung.

“Will be just fine. Look, he’s over there. Still breathing. Still here. Let’s go down and get some coffee, yeah? Jimin got a seat for us so we won’t have to search for long,” Taehyung said, and Jeongguk didn’t respond for a long time. 

“Okay,” Jeongguk finally said, and everyone seemed to let out a collective sigh of relief. “Hyung?” Jeongguk whispered through the phone.

“Are you alright for me to hang up now, Kook?” Seokjin asked, and Jeongguk hummed in response. “Okay, I’ll see you there. Go get a latte, you need it.”

Jeongguk chuckled, “Alright, hyung. I’ll see you.”

“Love you, kiddo,” Seokjin said, leaning forward to press the end call button. Before he had the chance, Jeongguk spoke again.

“Love you too, hyung,” And the line went dead. 

“Aw, he hasn’t said that in a while, has he?” Namjoon cooed, seemingly unbothered by their close call with the side of the road earlier. Seokjin nodded with a satisfied smile. 

“No, not really,” Seokjin said. There was an awkwardness that settled as the wheels of the car rolling over broken asphalt became the only sound to focus on. With a flash of bravery, and knowing he had nothing to lose, Seokjin reached out and took Namjoon’s hand. The younger looked from their linked hands to Seokjin’s face, settling on Seokjin’s nerve bitten lips. Eventually, Namjoon settled back against the seat, a tiny upturn to his lips all Seokjin needed to know he’d been right in his assumption. Namjoon had wanted to hold his hand. 

The awkwardness hadn’t been broken like Seokjin had hoped, but a new feeling was starting to take up too much space for the awkwardness to be felt as strongly. A tingly, hopeful feeling, making his heart beat frantically, and his fingers prickle. 

Then Seokjin remembered where they were going and why they were in the car together in the first place, and all he could feel was dread. Feeling bested by his circumstances, and desperate to dispel some of his uneasiness, Seokjin squeezed Namjoon’s hand tight enough that the man flinched with a small _tss_. Seokjin felt bad, but they were still somehow ten minutes away. He couldn’t fathom how much could change in ten minutes. 

“You’re okay,” Namjoon whispered, running his thumb soothingly over the vein popping noticeably on the back of Seokjin’s hand. “You said it yourself, he’s going to be alright. This has happened before.”

“He’s just so small, Joon. I don’t understand how his body can handle all the stress,” Seokjin sighed. Making Jeongguk feel better was a lot easier than making himself feel better. No matter how true what Seokjin told Jeongguk was, the knowledge he held was slippery and hard to hold onto. Like a fish out of water, drowning in vats of oil. Seokjin was hopeless to hold on, but he kept trying, and he kept _failing,_ and time was blurring as his attempts all faded into one massive defeat. 

“His name is Beomgyu, right? Tiger?” Namjoon asked, and Seokjin nodded stiffly. “What do you think of when you hear the word tiger? Miraculous, maybe. Ferocious and frenzied. Smug and benevolent. I could even throw in massive, extraordinary, _fierce._ None of those words are weak, are they? You named Beomgyu after one of the most competitive, lethal predators in the wild. I refuse to believe he’ll allow himself to ever succumb to anything.”

“But he’s a baby, Namjoon. This tiny, itty bitty thing that eats too much and sleeps just enough and loves to be cuddled,” Seokjin whined, suddenly unable to connect his baby with the name they’d spent only a few minutes deciding on. After _tear tracks,_ no less!

“You’re not giving him enough credit,” Namjoon waved him off. “Yeah, he’s a baby, but he’ll grow up to be what you saw in him the very first time you laid your eyes on him. There’s a reason that name came to you. I don’t think anything is by chance.”

“I know you don’t. Maybe it’s me that isn’t strong,” Seokjin chuckled morosely. Namjoon brushed his thumb over Seokjin’s cheek and smiled ruefully. 

“You’re our great gift, but also a bit of a loser,” Namjoon said, earning a solid slap on the thigh from Seokjin. 

“Rude! I really hope there’s no way to make fun of Beomgyu’s name because you people never let up!” Seokjin scoffed, both with a hint of amusement and a hint of genuine exasperation. 

“I’d never make fun of him! You’re different,” Namjoon teased. Seokjin wanted to put Namjoon in a solid headlock, but it was a bit hard to do that behind the wheel of a ten-ton death machine. 

They pulled into the parking lot of the hospital a few minutes later, Seokjin’s car beeping unhappily at him as he nearly side-swipes someone in his rush to pull into a parking spot. “Remember what I said about not killing us before we get there?” Namjoon grumbled, and Seokjin waited until they were both up and out of the car to respond.

“Well, we’re here now, so I didn’t promise anything,” Seokjin said. Namjoon rolled his eyes and jogged along after him.

They were led back to the NICU by a less than enthused front desk attendant. The woman made sure to let them know several times on the way that guiding lost patients was not her job, even though Seokjin had simply wanted his guest pass, not a guide. She dropped them at the double doors to the ward and walked away with enough energy to continue complaining. Seokjin caught Namjoon’s eyes and tried his hardest not to stoop to her level and grumble about her. 

“I swear she’s there every time I come in. Not entirely sure why she decided I needed help today,” Was all Seokjin said, pressing the button to the intercom and waiting for someone to respond. 

"Maybe she was enraptured by your long, wavy black hair," Namjoon winked, and Seokjin resisted the urge to gag. 

"She's sixty something," Seokjin tried to argue, but Namjoon just shrugged.

"Age is just a number," Namjoon said. Seokjin decided to ignore him in favor of pressing the intercom button again. 

“Name?” A female voice said. _Finally._

“Kim Beomgyu,” Seokjin said, and the double doors opened up. The two of them walked side by side, Seokjin giving Namjoon an apologetic smile as he slid the entrance to the unit open and walked inside, leaving the man to stand awkwardly in the corridor. 

“Seokjin-ssi,” Mrs. Moon said, jumping up from the chair she’d been occupying.

“No need to jump up, please sit,” Seokjin said. The woman waved him off and brought him in for a hug. The woman, though half his height, was the one to rock them side by side, both of them taking deep breaths to try and calm down. 

“He’s doing well. They’re doing a few tests, but there’s nothing you should be immediately concerned about,” Mrs. Moon stated. Seokjin gave a shaky sigh. “They’re looking into whether or not it would be beneficial to put him on anticonvulsants. Specifically Phenytoin or Levetiracetam.”

“He’s had two seizures. How could they already be considering putting him on medication?” Seokjin hadn’t done much research on anticonvulsants, and he was sorely regretting it now. The most he could recall was an abstract to an article detailing the potential risks and side effects of putting a newborn on seizure medication. It hadn’t sounded good, so he’d avoided reading more. 

Avoiding problems, not the best way to solve them.

“Have you ever noticed him smacking his lips? Maybe blinking a bit fast, or kicking his legs?” Mrs. Moon asked him. 

“A few times. Why?” Seokjin asked, nervously playing with the hem of his shirt. 

“They’re called absence seizures. Petit mal, if you know the old term. I know your mother was a nurse,” Mrs. Moon stated. Seokjin hummed, wondering where the woman had gotten that information from. Jeongguk must have launched into a tirade at some point in his visit. At least it wasn’t bad information. 

“Yes, petit mal sounds more familiar, but I’ve heard the other term. You’re saying he has two types of seizures?” Seokjin asked. It sounded vaguely familiar to what Jeongguk had relayed to him. Seokjin’s brain was beginning to misfire. So, all those times Beomgyu would smack his lips and flutter his eyes, that had been a seizure? Why had no one noticed, and if they had, why had he not been informed?

“Don’t panic, I can see it in your face. They caught abnormal activity on his EEG, they weren’t keeping secrets,” Mrs. Moon tried to console him. Seokjin just wanted to collapse on the couch another family had taken residence in and let his brain process. “They’re worried about his breathing. They think that the potential side effects are worth braving to avoid another fifteen seconds of him not breathing.”

“Makes sense,” Seokjin agreed, crossing his arms over his chest. 

“I’m sure you want some good news,” Mrs. Moon said, and Seokjin nodded gratefully. “His NAS score was the same for eight hours before all of this. He scored a nine twice.”

“That’s good. God, I remember when he was in the twenties,” Seokjin said, rubbing his eyes with shaking fingers. Seokjin knew that with the seizure, Beomgyu was back up to what? Seventeen? He’d tried to memorize the scoring system when he’d first received it, but the amount of information littering Beomgyu’s paper was massive. Now, it was much easier to make sense of it all. 

Vomiting was a two, loose stools were a two, mild tremors were a one, sleeping for less than three hours after a feeding was a one, sweating was a one, and intermittent crying for less than five minutes was a two. That equaled nine—one point above where Beomgyu needed to sit before they began weaning him off the morphine. 

The seizure added another eight points onto that. In a way, it changed nothing. In an hour, they’d rescore him, and if he didn’t have another seizure, they’d continue on with his 0.08 mg of morphine. They’d keep on keeping on, in the hopes that one day something would give. Seokjin allowed himself to be grateful that Beomgyu was no longer scoring upwards of twenty-four to twenty-five points every four hours. It could be much, much worse.

“I’ve been reading this article written by a doctor, Jansson, I think it was? It was one of the few I could find that was properly translated. It gives you the NAS scores and what every little detail means, and it seems simple, but the article says it’s complicated and hard to understand. If a doctor struggles, I must be completely off base,” Seokjin said, trying to start another worthwhile conversation. It would do him well to show that he was invested, and he did want to see if Mrs. Moon had any knowledge to offer him regardless.

“Not necessarily,” She said, giving him a sly smile. “Sometimes, it’s easier to understand something you’re personally invested in. A medical student who has no interest in opioid-addicted babies may forget the system the day they walk out of that exam. You, on the other hand, have a real reason to learn. That’s your son being scored. You want to at least know why.” 

Seokjin was shocked to hear the word _son_ slip out of the woman’s mouth. No matter how good their relationship was, there was still the palpable rift of potential adopter and social worker between them. She was there to observe him, not to be his friend, and yet she was also one of the few people Seokjin felt comfortable confiding in. 

Beomgyu was required to spend at least six months with him before the adoption could be finalized. In that period, Mrs. Moon would be around once every six weeks, making sure the baby was adapting to his new home and family well. She had been around far more than Seokjin had initially expected. Okay, two times in two weeks wasn’t necessarily enough times to justify that train of thought, but it was more than he’d been told. There was also the fact most of his nightly updates came from Mrs. Moon and not one of the nurses on duty. Maybe she had other children in the ward under her care? 

It didn’t matter. Seokjin was thinking too deep into things that didn’t concern him. He needed to focus on Beomgyu’s potential medication and his NAS scores, nothing else. Maybe work, but with that finished for the week, he could allow that to fall to the back burner as well.

“Well, thank you for being here. I know how busy you are,” Seokjin said, and Mrs. Moon bowed with a sad smile.

“I’m sorry to say we won’t see much of each other come the start of next week. Like you said, I’m swamped, and I’ve overstayed my welcome,” Mrs. Moon said.

“No, you’re never a bother,” Seokjin waved her off. She chortled a bit in response.

“I know, but I was only supposed to check in every day the first week. Now I’m just overstepping. He’s in good hands, perhaps the best for him. I hope to see your name on my registry again,” Mrs. Moon said, giving him a soft tap on the back. “I think your friend is getting worried. Go on, they won’t be done for a while now.”

“Thank you. I’ll see you in…?” Seokjin trailed off, suddenly unsure of what to say.

“I’ll see you on his discharge date if nothing major comes up,” She said, and Seokjin nodded solemnly. What a disappointment. He’d really come to cherish her presence. How was he meant to sleep peacefully knowing Beomgyu didn’t have her around? 

Back to business as usual, then. Seokjin waved to the woman one last time before returning to Namjoon, his lips tight and eyes burning. He hadn’t felt even close to crying in the unit, so why he was fighting it so hard now was a question he couldn’t find a quick answer to. All he knew was Namjoon’s arms were open, and the only thing that felt right was to fall right into them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I post AU ideas on Twitter, so you should go tell me what you think. (One of them has to do with the future of this story!)
> 
> Ask me questions: https://curiouscat.me/gypsyether  
> Twitter: https://twitter.com/gypsyether  
> Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/gypsyether/


	5. Elpis

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Hyung, calm down,” Namjoon whispered, grabbing Seokjin’s hand in his. Seokjin grasped on tightly. He wanted this so bad, but it wasn’t the right time. There was never a right time. If it wasn’t Beomgyu, then it was work. If it wasn’t work, it was school. If it wasn’t school, something was going on with his mother, Jeongguk, or himself. 
> 
> “I’m sorry,” Seokjin whispered, and he didn’t try to pull away when Namjoon wrapped him up in an almost suffocating hug. Seokjin clung so tightly to Namjoon’s shirt he was sure he would rip a hole in the fabric. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, I'm not a huge fan of dragging on relationship drama for chapter after chapter. That's not really the focus of this story. Hope you guys still enjoy! (Plus there's no stress, lol!)

“You should head home. I’m sure you have a lot to take care of,” Seokjin wiped away his tears and took a deep breath. He didn’t want Namjoon to leave, but trapping him in the hospital when there was nothing he could actually do felt cruel. At least if he went home, he could get started on his plan to help Jeongguk break out of law and into the production industry. 

“I do have a lot to take care of,” Namjoon said, pulling Seokjin back into his arms. It made the tears bite angrily behind Seokjin’s eyes again. No matter how many times they ended up in situations such as this one, Seokjin could never come to terms with the fact Namjoon cared for him so fiercely. Not even Jeongguk, who he had doted on obsessively in his youth, held onto Seokjin this long when he was upset. 

“There’s nothing you can do. They said he’s going to be alright,” Seokjin whispered, clutching Namjoon’s hoodie sleeve like it would tether him to the Earth. Namjoon chuckled and shook his head. 

“Hyung, I’m not here for Beomgyu. I know he’s in good hands and that he will be okay. I am here for _you_ ,” Namjoon said. It didn’t make sense to Seokjin at first. Why would he be here if not for Beomgyu? Beomgyu was the one lying in a cot with an oxygen mask covering his entire face, all because his mother had decided drugs were more important than her baby. What did Seokjin matter right now? “I know that Beomgyu is a baby. I know that he’s going through a lot, and he’s fighting so hard to get through it, but someone has to be there for you.”

“I’m fine.”

“Which is fine. You being fine is _fine,_ but it’s not the best. It’s not great. I know you’re hurting. I know you’re scared. Let me take care of you for just a moment, and then we can all go back to caring for Beomgyu,” Namjoon sounded close to pleading. He rubbed his hand up and down Seokjin’s arm as if trying to generate heat, but in reality, it was probably closer to a nervous tick. Maybe he was just trying to rub some life back into Seokjin’s slowly degrading body. 

“I love him so much,” Seokjin cried, and the force of it was enough to draw pitying stares from the entire ward. Namjoon waved those who stepped forward off, whispering that he had it handled. 

“I know. He’s not going anywhere, hyung. He’s right here, and one day, he’ll be in that car seat in the back of your car on his way home,” Namjoon whispered, and Seokjin bit his knuckle to try and ground himself. It didn’t work, but the pain gave him something else to focus on. Namjoon swatted at his hand until Seokjin pulled it from his mouth. “Squeeze my hand. Play with my rings. Don’t hurt yourself.”

“I can’t think,” Seokjin sniffled, allowing Namjoon to intertwine their fingers together. 

“Then don’t. Let go; I’m right here. Nothing will happen to you while I’m here,” Namjoon pressed a nervous kiss to Seokjin’s forehead. Seokjin leaned into the touch, and with the affirmation that he was not upset by the gesture, Namjoon began trailing soft kisses down Seokjin’s face. Namjoon pressed his lips gently to Seokjin’s cheek, and when he pulled away, he only went far enough he could press their foreheads together.

“What’re you doing?” Seokjin’s body shook as he inhaled. 

“What feels right,” Namjoon responded. Seokjin felt drunk on Namjoon, his already vulnerable state leaving him open to anything that could happen at that moment. He felt no anxiety, no fear, nothing but the overwhelming desire to drown in Namjoon and forget that the world around him existed. “Hey, are you with me?”

“Yes,” Seokjin didn’t sound very with it. He was breathless and shaky, and his hands didn’t quite know where to go. Namjoon grabbed both of them and held them tight, and to Seokjin’s immense disappointment, he pulled his forehead away to look into his eyes.

“Come back to me,” Namjoon ran his hand soothingly over Seokjin’s cheek. It did nothing to clear Seokjin’s head. 

“I’m here,” Seokjin lied, and Namjoon smiled with drooping eyes and a sorrowful sigh. 

“Do you want to go to the cafeteria or to the studio with me?” Namjoon asked, and Seokjin mulled over the options for a moment. It would be nice to see Jeongguk for himself to make sure he was alright, but the thought of being alone in a soundproof room was even better. Then at least no one could hear him crying his eyes out. 

“Studio,” Seokjin answered. Namjoon nodded and helped him to his feet. Seokjin took a deep breath and tried to recenter himself. He took one last glance at Beomgyu before forcing himself to turn away. There was nothing he could do. The baby would be having tests done most of the day, and he wasn’t in the right headspace to stick around and watch. 

“He will be okay,” Namjoon said, and Seokjin nodded despite not believing it entirely himself. They had been so close. Just one more day, and they could’ve started weaning him off the morphine. He could’ve been one step closer to coming home. 

“Let’s go,” Seokjin said, turning and walking toward the doors to the ward waiting room. Namjoon followed solemnly behind, bidding the nurses goodbye in Seokjin’s stead. 

No matter how much Seokjin wanted to be with Beomgyu, Namjoon was right. If this kept going any longer, he wouldn’t be fit to take care of him. He needed to take care of himself, too. 

If he knew this, why did he feel so selfish?

Seokjin lay on Namjoon’s couch two hours later, scrolling through action plans for their next staff meeting. His head wasn’t in it, but he didn’t intend to spend another Saturday in the office for a long time, which meant getting a head start. He internally chuckled. His _head_ wasn’t in it, _head_ start. Man, he needed sleep. 

“My boss said Jeongguk could audition,” Namjoon’s exclamation was punctuated with the crash of his knee on his desk as he stood up in excitement. Seokjin watched as Namjoon jumped on one leg, holding the injured knee up while grumbling expletives. “You could pretend to be worried!”

“It’s just amusing,” Seokjin shrugged, smiling slyly. When Namjoon pouted unhappily, Seokjin stood and shoved Namjoon back down into his chair. He knelt down just enough to place a soft kiss on Namjoon’s knee, and when he stood back up, he was instantly trapped by Namjoon’s inquisitive gaze. 

“Today has been…” Namjoon began.

“Interesting,” Seokjin finished. 

“Bad interesting?” Namjoon asked, and Seokjin shook his head. It wasn’t as if any of this was new. They had been running in circles around each other since they were teenagers; it only made sense that things would come to a head one day. Why it had to be when Seokjin was already frazzled and on unsteady footing, he wasn’t sure. 

Part of Seokjin just wanted Namjoon to be his best friend. The same steady, reliable presence he’d always had around. Then another part of him, the part that acknowledged that they’d never been what regular best friends were, wanted more. 

Then there was the part screaming that Seokjin shouldn’t even indulge in such thoughts while his son was sick in the hospital. He stumbled at the thought, instantly feeling disgusted with himself. How could he be focusing on his relationship with Namjoon when Beomgyu had stopped breathing only a few hours ago? Why was he not at the hospital?

“Hyung, calm down,” Namjoon whispered, grabbing Seokjin’s hand in his. Seokjin grasped on tightly. He wanted this so bad, but it wasn’t the right time. There was never a right time. If it wasn’t Beomgyu, then it was work. If it wasn’t work, it was school. If it wasn’t school, something was going on with his mother, Jeongguk, or himself. 

“I’m sorry,” Seokjin whispered, and he didn’t try to pull away when Namjoon wrapped him up in an almost suffocating hug. Seokjin clung so tightly to Namjoon’s shirt he was sure he would rip a hole in the fabric. 

“You have nothing, _nothing t_ o apologize for,” Namjoon said, pulling away just enough to look into Seokjin’s eyes. There was a magnetic pull that Seokjin was hopeless to break as they looked at each other. Before he could even think to stop himself, he closed his eyes and allowed Namjoon to connect their lips. 

It was overwhelming. Seokjin’s heart felt like it had exploded, and it neither felt good nor bad. All he knew was that he never wanted the moment to end. He wrapped his arms around Namjoon’s shoulders, Namjoon settled his hands on Seokjin’s waist. When they finally pulled away from each other, it was with soft gasps into each other’s mouths. They were still so close that their lips were brushing, and every once in a while, Namjoon would lean back in to give Seokjin soft pecks. 

The guilt crept up unbidden. Seokjin had just been telling himself not to be selfishly thinking of himself while Beomgyu was sick, and here he was, kissing Namjoon in his studio instead of at the hospital. He needed to leave. 

“I need to go,” Seokjin said, pulling himself away. He couldn’t look into Namjoon’s face. 

“Don’t,” Namjoon whispered, and for the first time that night, he sounded as close to tears as Seokjin. “Did you not want this?”

“I did. I do. But I can’t, not right now,” Seokjin said, turning to walk away. Namjoon grabbed him by the wrist.

“I’ll go with you. I’ll do it all with you. I really care about you, hyung. That wasn’t just some fleeting thing. I really, really like you. I’ll go with you to the hospital, I’ll help you organize all the files you get, I’ll help you take care of him. I’ll be there, right by your side. Don’t leave,” Namjoon sounded so devastated. 

“I need to focus on him,” Seokjin was still arguing with himself. Namjoon had just offered to be like a second parent to Beomgyu, and Seokjin was _still_ about to walk away. Namjoon had just said he liked him. That what they just shared wasn’t a heat of the moment thing. 

“I’ll help you. I know I haven’t been around, but I was trying to give you space. From now on, I will be there. For both of you.”

“Namjoon, I don’t know. I don’t _know._ I want this so bad, but everything inside of me is saying how dare I do this while all that’s going on is going on?” 

“So, you just stop living? You give up on any other aspect of life? This isn’t a selfish whim, hyung. If you want this, there’s a reason,” Namjoon sniffled, and Seokjin turned to see him wiping tears off his cheeks. “I love you. All of you. Everything that you do, I will support you. I always have. This is no different.” 

Seokjin wanted to say it back. He was dying to tell Namjoon that he loved him. That all he’d ever wanted was for him to be his. Instead, he stepped forward and held Namjoon’s face in his hands. He connected their lips for a moment before pulling away, his tears mingling with Namjoon’s on his face.

“I’ll see you later,” Seokjin whispered, turning and making his way out of the room. He was sobbing by the time he got back to his car, and the only thing he could think of to do was call Jeongguk. He picked up on the third ring, and Seokjin said, “I just fucked up so bad. Why did I leave?”

“Hyung?” Jeongguk asked. 

“I left. I just _left._ What is wrong with me?” Seokjin sobbed. He could hear Jeongguk excusing himself before he spoke again.

“What’s going on? What happened?” Jeongguk asked. 

“Namjoon kissed me. He said he loved me. He said he would be like Beomgyu’s other parent, and I _left,”_ Seokjin threw his head down onto his steering wheel. Jeongguk was silent for a moment, but eventually, it was broken by a soft sigh.

“When was the last time you slept?” Jeongguk asked.

“I don’t know. Last night,” Seokjin said. He wasn’t entirely sure why it mattered.

“For what? An hour?” 

“Yeah,” Seokjin responded. He was waiting to see what his sleeping habits had to do with him walking out on Namjoon. 

“Well, that explains why you’re making shitty decisions. Hyung, get your ass up and go get him,” Jeongguk sounded exasperated yet somehow fond. Seokjin shook his head despite Jeongguk not being able to see him.

“I can’t. After that, I can’t just go back.”

“Why? You think he doesn’t love you anymore because someone running on five hours of sleep a week, has a baby in the hospital, a job that won’t let up, and a brother that doesn’t listen walked away from a stressful situation? Namjoon? He’s probably a wreck. Go find him and tell him you love him. I did not listen to you talk about him like he was God for seventeen years just for you to blow your chance.” 

“What about Beomgyu?” Seokjin asked. Jeongguk actually _groaned._

“Beomgyu’s getting scans done. I can’t even go see him. Also, I’m pretty sure he would be much happier with two people to love him.”

“Why do I feel so gross?” Seokjin asked. 

“Media. Books. Helicopter moms on Facebook that only care about making you feel like shit for caring about yourself. Go. Get. Him,” Jeongguk said. “In fact, I’m hanging up. Go get your man. Don’t forget lube.”

Seokjin squawked as the call was cut. Gross. He sat for a minute and took a deep breath, willing himself to make the walk of shame back to Namjoon’s studio. Deciding that he would never be ready, he unbuckled his seatbelt and pushed the door to his car open. Just like he always told himself, there was no time like the present. 

He shuffled his way back inside, past the receptionist, and the various dance students that had no doubt seen him run off. One of them even gave him a thumbs up. Horrified, he wondered how obvious they had been to strangers. 

Seokjin only had to knock twice on the door before Namjoon pulled it open. He looked like a mess already. Blotchy cheeks covered in tear tracks, puffy eyes, messed up hair. 

“I’m sorry,” Seokjin whispered. Namjoon looked like he wanted to do something but was waiting for Seokjin to give him permission. “Do you forgive me?”

Namjoon pulled Seokjin to him. “Always.” 

For the first time in two weeks, Seokjin could breathe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally, finally, finally. I could not figure out what was wrong with the other chapters, but I realized it was because I was dragging out plot lines I didn't want to drag out. Therefore, I decided that it was about time to wrap a lot of them up. This was wrap up number one.
> 
> https://www.buymeacoffee.com/meltediceangel (helps pay for medical school)


	6. Euphrosyne

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “No, you can’t. If I really didn’t want to, I wouldn’t, but I do. Even if he has those seizures forever, then I will pour myself into every piece of literature I can until I know what to do for him. I’m in this for the long haul.”
> 
> “Why?” 
> 
> “Because I love you."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Double post to make up for the dry spell.

Seokjin laid his head down on Namjoon’s bare chest and sighed. He wished that he could shut his brain off for one minute and just enjoy the current moment. He hadn’t felt so much contentment in years, and yet somehow, his mind was still convincing him that he needed to be on high alert. 

“Tell me what you’re thinking,” Namjoon whispered as he carded his fingers through Seokjin’s far too long hair. 

“I’m thinking that I don’t want to think,” Seokjin responded honestly. Namjoon hummed and ran a cold hand over Seokjin’s leg. 

“I can see why that may be a problem,” Namjoon said, and Seokjin mumbled his agreement. “Well, I know most people do the talking before, but when have we ever been like most people?”

“Not once in our entire lives,” Seokjin said. He tried to gather his thoughts, but it was hard to do so when Namjoon kept rubbing his thigh. Despite not necessarily disliking the attention, Seokjin batted his hand away. 

“My bad,” Namjoon smirked, and Seokjin had half a mind to slap him silly for it. 

“Uh, huh,” Seokjin rolled his eyes. He finally managed to gather a cohesive thought, so he said, “You know, I’ve been thinking. Clearly. You don’t have to be anything to Beomgyu if you don’t want to.”

Namjoon actually jumped a little at the statement. That wasn’t the reaction Seokjin had been expecting. Maybe he was pessimistic, but a large part of Seokjin had expected relief. After all, they had known each other for the better part of twenty years. Beomgyu had just come into the picture. Expecting Namjoon to drop everything to be a parent to a baby that would need critical lifelong care (if the doctor had been correct) wasn’t a fair expectation. 

Namjoon sighed and lifted himself up into a sitting position, bringing Seokjin up with him. “I love you. Loving you is loving the things that you love. I may not understand all of what’s happening, and I may not have a clue what to do for him, but I will figure it out. I haven’t met him, but I care about him.”

“He’s so sick, Namjoon. I can’t lead you on thinking it’s not going to be hard. When I first came to see him, they told me that he might be blind. He might be deaf. He might never walk or talk. He might have those seizures forever. I can’t force you into a situation like that.”

“No, you can’t. If I really didn’t want to, I wouldn’t, but I do. Even if he has those seizures forever, then I will pour myself into every piece of literature I can until I know what to do for him. I’m in this for the long haul.”

“Why?” 

“Because I _love_ you. Because your baby needs people who love him, who care for him, and who will do anything for him. Life isn’t easy, but I know this has been especially hard on you. Let me take some of the burden.”

“I can’t give you anything,” Seokjin said. He always felt lacking in the presence of his friends, but no more than now. “I’m just me. I can’t give you money, or a nice place to live, or kids of your own.”

“I don’t need any of that. You’re right, you’re just you, and that makes this the best decision I’ve ever made. You’re you, and I love you.” 

“I—“Seokjin trailed off. Namjoon was looking at him expectantly. As if he had concrete answers to anything Seokjin would say to throw him off. There was nothing left to say, except, “I love you.”

Namjoon smiled, his eyes wet and quickly turning red. He wrapped his arms tightly around Seokjin and held him tight. 

“I guess the only thing left to ask is: do you want me to be that for Beomgyu?” Namjoon asked, and it took no thought. 

“Yes,” Seokjin whispered. 

“Okay. Then I will. Starting now. Tell me everything about him.”

Seokjin may not be the best talker, but if there was one topic he could always go on and on about, it was his baby. 

Seokjin groaned as he woke the second time that day. He stretched and let out a breath, going limp on the bed. He was still exhausted. He took a quick look at the clock to see he had only nodded off for a little under an hour. 

“You can sleep longer. Jeongguk said Beomgyu’s doing well,” Namjoon said. Seokjin rubbed at his eyes and turned himself over, surprised to see Namjoon fully clothed with his laptop propped open on his lap. He had a notebook open at his side, and even now, he was jotting notes down into it. 

“Work?” Seokjin asked, shifting his arm under the pillow so he could comfortably prop his head up. 

“Nah, just been reading up on addiction,” Namjoon said. Seokjin’s heart swelled with his smile. Namjoon hadn’t been kidding when he said he would do his research. 

“What have you found?” Seokjin asked. 

“Probably nothing you don’t already know.”

“Try me,” Seokjin really just wanted to hear Namjoon talk. There were very few articles left that Seokjin hadn’t read in the past two weeks. The only thing Namjoon had going for him was that he could peruse the English stacks of research while Seokjin was limited to Korean. 

Namjoon ended up talking Seokjin through his notes, and while there really was nothing new in them, Seokjin still listened with rapt attention. This man really loved him enough to go deep enough to have statistics and math to back up what he was saying. He was even spouting off names of authors who had written academic journals on Neonatal Abstinence Syndrome. 

Seokjin lifted himself up and grabbed Namjoon’s laptop, gently closing it and setting it off to the side on the nightstand. Next, he took the pen and notepad away and settled them in the same spot. With those things out of the way, it gave him just enough room to drop into Namjoon’s lap. 

“That was kinda hot,” Namjoon blundered, making Seokjin laugh at his awkwardness. 

“I can’t believe you would do all of this for me. For him,” Seokjin said. Namjoon just shrugged.

“I told you. Long haul,” Namjoon said, pulling Seokjin in for a kiss. 

Seokjin slept longer the third time. He didn’t try to rationalize it with any particular reason, although he did wonder why he had woken up again with how unthinkably exhausted he felt. His eyes burned as he opened them, and he had to take deep breaths to quell the almost nauseating tired. 

“You okay?” Namjoon asked, running a hand through Seokjin’s hair. 

“Tired,” Seokjin said. He sounded thick and congested despite not having a stuffy nose, and his body was led and unable to move enough to stop Namjoon from playing with his hair. 

“Go back to sleep,” Namjoon said, but Seokjin was somehow too tired to sleep. 

“No,” Seokjin said, petulant and whiny. Namjoon chuckled and moved his hand away. 

“Well, in that case, someone wants to say hi,” Namjoon said, and Seokjin rolled over to see what he was talking about. 

It took a moment to blink enough sleep out of his eyes for the blurry image of a phone to turn into a very clear picture of Jeongguk and Beomgyu on FaceTime. Suddenly feeling far less tired, Seokjin shot up with a smile, not even caring to question where the shirt he was wearing had come from. 

“Hey,” Seokjin whispered. Beomgyu’s head turned toward the phone, but his mind couldn’t quite wrap around the fact that Seokjin’s voice was coming from the device held in Jeongguk’s hand. “Look at my baby boy. You look so healthy today!”

It was true. Beomgyu wasn’t shaking at all; his eyes had lost the yellow tint of jaundice, he was no longer flushed with fever, but rosy-cheeked like all the babies he had seen in the chilly air of March. Seokjin had spent so much time worrying that he had never stopped to observe. Even his face had gained fat, and his arms flailed like one might expect from a newborn. 

“He scored four three times overnight. They’re going to start lowering his morphine if this keeps up. Hyung, he might get to come home this week,” Jeongguk said, and Seokjin almost collapsed back down onto the bed. 

All the stress, the late nights and early mornings, the fear and anxiety. It all led up to _this._ He was elated, his heart pounding frantically in his chest. For once, it wasn’t because he was terrified his baby would die before he ever got the chance to go home. 

Jeongguk broke the silence with a watery laugh, and even Namjoon was looking at him with something akin to awe. 

Holy shit. His baby might get to come home with him. 

“I—Oh my God!” Seokjin laughed and threw himself into Namjoon’s arms. The two of them held on tight while Jeongguk laughed in the background. 

“If this child could just have a solid poop, stop dripping snot everywhere and sneezing, he would have a _zero,_ ” Jeongguk said, and Seokjin couldn’t find the words to express how thankful he was that those were the only points his son had accumulated.

“Let’s go see him,” Seokjin said. Namjoon nodded.

Let’s go.”

“I’ll be right here,” Namjoon said as Seokjin stood in the middle ground between the hallway and the NICU. It would be the second time in two days that Seokjin had left Namjoon standing awkwardly in the middle of the hallway. 

“Promise?” Seokjin had just been teasing, but Namjoon pulled him in for a kiss as he wrapped their pinkies around each other. 

“Promise,” Namjoon said, leaving Seokjin flustered and red but happier than he’d been in recent memory. Seokjin stepped his way into the ward with red cheeks and a fluttering heart. 

“You look pleased,” Seokjin jumped at Jeongguk’s voice in his ear. “Did you get laid? Or are you going slow because you just wove him too much to rush?” 

“I don’t remember being this nosy when you and Taehyung got together,” Seokjin grumbled, turning and walking toward where Beomgyu was sleeping. 

“Seriously? You don’t remember lecturing me for weeks on dating etiquette?” Jeongguk asked, following closely behind. 

“Telling you to alternate who pays for dinner is not a lecture, and I did not say it for weeks.” 

“Oh, come off it. You know exactly what I’m talking about. Bit prudish for someone showing off a hickey,” Jeongguk said, looking pointedly at Seokjin’s neck. Seokjin threw his hands up to try and cover the mark, but Jeongguk’s curved lip and head shake told him it was a lost cause. 

“Just--leave me alone,” Seokjin sighed, lifting Beomgyu gently out of his bassinet. It was an incredible feeling to hold him after two seemingly endless days. Beomgyu, whose only noises had been shrill shrieks and cries for all the time Seokjin had known him, was grunting with his tongue out as he stared at Seokjin’s face. 

“He missed you,” Jeongguk said, tone much more subdued. 

“Not as much as I missed him,” Seokjin said.

“I’m going to keep Namjoon-hyung company. Take all the time you need, as long as you remember to eat. And I mean real food, not coffee. Don’t think the nurses won’t rat you out,” Jeongguk didn’t wait for Seokjin to respond before leaving. 

Seokjin watched as Namjoon wrapped his arm around Jeongguk’s shoulders as they said hello. Just as Seokjin was about to turn away, Jeongguk’s face ran through many different emotions. Disbelief, amusement, acknowledgment, before finally settling on euphoria. Jeongguk threw himself into a laughing Namjoon’s arms. He must have told him about the audition.

Seeing the joy on Jeongguk’s face, something Seokjin hadn’t seen in quite a few years, squashed any doubts that Seokjin had. 

Jeongguk pulled the door to the unit open and said, “Hyung, I’m going with Namjoon to his studio. Will you--”

“Go,” Seokjin said, hoping to stop any further rambles. “I’m okay. It’s been too long since I’ve had time alone with my baby.”

“Okay! Have a good time!” Jeongguk said, closing the door back and returning to Namjoon. Just before they left, Namjoon turned and blew Seokjin a kiss. Seokjin wasn’t overly obnoxious as he pretended to catch it, but it was enough for Namjoon to see. Seokjin took the hand that did the fake catch and pressed it delicately to Beomgyu’s cheek.

Namjoon had already left, but that didn’t stop Seokjin from saying, “Maybe it won’t just be the two of us forever.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last chapter for a while that'll focus on Namjin as a couple w/o the babies. I have plans though! So for all of you that enjoyed the Namjin stuff, I have more, just not until the next one or two babies arrive at least. 
> 
> Also...the next chapter will be the LAST hospital chapter for Beomgyu. After that, there's one chapter of him at home adjusting, and then we get to introduce our next baby/toddler. I already know who it's going to be, and I'm sure all of you who read Long Lasting do too, but hey, there's gotta be at least one of you who gets the surprise.
> 
> https://www.buymeacoffee.com/meltediceangel (helps pay for medical school)


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promise that I will go through and respond to all the comments from the previous chapters soon! I really tried to bust out all my school work this week so I could focus on writing this weekend. 
> 
> Awkward attempt at a heart-to-heart by Kook and Seokjin. They'll get a real one soon. Work and school is a sore spot for them.
> 
> Also, the song Seokjin is singing is called Ama Be Happy by ArchDuke and Jenee Jones. https://open.spotify.com/track/6xWSacKRxOviT1aFD9uKza?si=1pvz9Og3QWCGj8grk25g7A

Seokjin sang to Beomgyu as if the out-of-tune words that he hadn’t even written would breathe health and wellness into his child. He sang as the sun set below the horizon, the day-shift and night-shift nurses exchanged report, and all of the parents except for himself and one mother left. 

Beomgyu had three seizures as Seokjin held him. They weren’t anything grand, just the smacking of his lips, the kicking of his leg, the rapid blinking of his eyes. Even through the tears, Seokjin didn’t stop singing. He had run out of songs after the first three hours, and Seokjin didn’t have to look at the time to know he was treading into the five to six-hour mark. 

He would feel worse if the mother across from him didn’t do the same. Neither of them had left to eat, get a drink, or go to the bathroom. She had been sitting in the same chair for nine hours, staring at her child with drooping eyes and hunched shoulders. Seokjin could remember how it had felt to be in the same position.

 _“Don’t go chasin’ waterfalls, no, no, no,”_ Seokjin sang, closing his eyes and forcing the higher notes up out of his chest. He had always thought his singing voice was treading toward terrible, no matter how much his friends loved to hear it. Jeongguk had been born with a beautiful voice, and Seokjin had to work day and night just to keep his voice from breaking. 

_“Keep the faith; you’ll have it all, slow, slow, slow.”_

Beomgyu didn’t seem to care one way or another. He was quiet and still, his tongue poking out and eyes fluttering every once in a while. There was no chuckle when Seokjin’s voice broke, or when he messed up a word or a whole lyric. Beomgyu didn’t care that Seokjin was off-tune at some parts. In the grand scheme of things, this was laying the foundation of a genuine feeling of trust. Seokjin had been there when Beomgyu felt terrible. That never had, and would never, change. 

_“Listen to the rivers and the streams that you’re used to,_

_Anything you believe, you can reach if you choose to.”_

Seokjin trailed off. Beomgyu’s eyes were closing slowly, leaving only small slits left for Seokjin to gaze into. Overwhelmed was an understatement for how he felt. He would be better off describing the feeling as what one might assume drowning in a swamp to feel like. The heaviness, the darkness, the hopelessness. 

It sounded strange when Beomgyu was laying in his arms, healthier than he had been since he was born. It was the first week that wouldn’t leave Seokjin alone. It had only been a week and a half since Beomgyu had been vomiting on him as he screamed himself hoarse. Seokjin could only imagine the pain and fear. His baby had felt like he was dying, and all he could do was hold him and promise that nothing like this would ever happen again.

“You have no idea, no _idea,_ how much I love you. How much I would do for you,” Seokjin whispered, tears dripping and splattering on Beomgyu’s blanket. He hadn’t even felt like crying. “You held on. Even through all of that, you held on. I can’t imagine how tiring it must have been. How terrified you were. How much pain you were in. My fierce tiger. You never have to do anything alone.”

Seokjin watched as Beomgyu’s eyes finally slipped closed. His chest seized, the only thought being one where Beomgyu never opened his eyes again. It made him feel like his world had stopped spinning. The world lost color, brightness, hope; the world lost meaning without Beomgyu. 

Seokjin had always read about how lots of families found bonding with an adopted child difficult. It was okay; it took time. Seokjin had been prepared for this from the moment he signed up for the classes to help him become a foster parent. He had never expected that it would only take a glance to fall so hard. 

He didn’t dwell on it, and he stopped himself from trying to logically explain it. Namjoon would do that for him if he ever decided he was curious enough to ask. All he knew at that moment was that he would turn the world upside down just to see that chest rise and fall every day for the rest of his life. 

An hour later, the door to the ward opened, and soft footsteps made their way to where Seokjin sat. The person settled down silently beside him. 

“I had to argue with the receptionist for about ten minutes to make it up here,” Jeongguk whispered. He sounded exhausted, which Seokjin could understand. Jeongguk had been the one to max out the visiting hours the last two days. 

“Why?” Seokjin asked. Jeongguk shifted with a small smirk. 

“She said we need intervention. If the nurses won’t do it, she will. She only let me go when I told her I was coming to pry you away,” Jeongguk said. Seokjin chuckled humorlessly. He had very few interactions with the receptionist, all of which usually devolved into her berating him for coming in ten minutes before visiting hours began, or only ten minutes after they began. 

“I’m not going anywhere. His last dose of medicine will be tonight. He needs me,” Seokjin said, and Jeongguk nodded. “They said if his scores stay stable, he can go home tomorrow or Tuesday.”

“The seizures?” Jeongguk asked, looking down at Beomgyu with a downturned lip. 

“They’re not going to keep him forever. They were telling me a lot of his problems could last until he’s six months old,” Seokjin said. “As long as he doesn’t need medicine, he doesn’t need to be here.”

“That’s good. Yeah, that’s good. They said it would be a month, didn’t they?” Jeongguk asked, fixing Beomgyu’s swaddle just a small shift.

“That was what they thought, yeah. They thought a lot of things,” Seokjin pressed his lips together in a failed attempt at a smile. He should be happy. Beomgyu was finally going to come home with him, and all he could think about was what-ifs. What if Beomgyu’s scores go up again without the medicine? What if he has another bad seizure? What if they _never go away?_

“I can see what Namjoon meant by you having a thinking face,” Jeongguk said, sticking his face far too close to Seokjin’s. Seokjin pushed himself back until Jeongguk moved back to his seat. 

“I do not have a thinking face,” Seokjin grumbled. Jeongguk raised his eyebrows and shook his head before shifting down in his chair. 

“Okay. So what are you thinking about?” Jeongguk asked, and deciding he wasn’t in the mood to be petulant, Seokjin sighed.

“I feel like I keep going between knowing that Beomgyu is going to have problems forever and not knowing what to do if he really does. It’s like one day, I’m okay with it, and I know that I can handle whatever happens, and then the next, I feel completely unprepared. It’s like getting pickpocketed or something. I have my money ready to pay, and then I get in my back pocket, and my wallet is gone,” Seokjin said, wiping his eyes before Jeongguk could see that he was close to tears. 

“Don’t do that. It’s okay. Cry it out, you deserve it,” Jeongguk said, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his knees. He didn’t say anything else for a moment, but Seokjin knew he was leading up to something. The way he was staring off, tapping his fingers on his chin as he mulled through whatever was in his mind. 

All of a sudden, Jeongguk lifted himself up and fumbled through his coat pocket. He pulled his hand out and plopped something on the chair arm that separated the two of them. Seokjin looked down and nearly choked when he saw what it was. 

“You left your wallet at Namjoon’s house. I don’t know if you knew you had lost it, and that’s where that metaphor came from, but I actually came to drop it off. If you ever lose it again, don’t hesitate to ask me for help. I’ll always help you find it,” Jeongguk said. Something lit up in Seokjin’s chest. With shaky feet, he stood, carrying Beomgyu back to his bassinet and laying him down. Once Beomgyu was settled, Seokjin turned back around to face Jeongguk.

“Thank you,” Seokjin said. Jeongguk didn’t say anything. “I wish I had been on your side more when we were younger.”

“You always had my best interest at heart,” Jeongguk smiled, albeit with droopy eyes and pursed lips. Seokjin patted Jeongguk’s arm until he was standing before wrapping him up in the first hug they’d shared since Jeongguk was a newly turned teenager. 

“I did, but that doesn’t mean I was right. This media thing is going to be good for you,” Seokjin said, pulling away to look in Jeongguk’s eyes. 

“You think so?” Jeongguk asked. 

“This time, I actually _do_ know so,” Seokjin said. Jeongguk smiled a real smile that time, one that went all the way up to his eyes. 

“Good, because I fixed Namjoon’s song. He’s going to show it to his boss tomorrow,” Jeongguk said. 

“I’m really, really happy for you, Kook,” Seokjin was genuine. He had always been the first to side with his mother when she would say singing and production was a dead-end career. It didn’t matter how successful Namjoon and Yoongi had become in production or how far Hoseok and Jimin had gotten with dance. He had grown up hearing that the arts were a dying profession, and he had tried so hard to save Jeongguk from that. 

Well, at least Seokjin could confidently say that their mother wasn’t right about everything. Her being right all the time got tiring. 

“Thank you. So, when are you coming home?” Jeongguk asked. 

“When I’m sure he doesn’t have a bad reaction to the medicine wearing off,” Seokjin responded. Jeongguk hummed and nodded, turning on his heels to grab his bag and coffee that he’d settled down when he came in. 

“I have to work on something that was due an hour ago, so I’ll see you later,” Jeongguk said, and Seokjin just shook his head and waved him off. No point in berating Jeongguk now when he wouldn’t even be a law major come next term. 

Beomgyu had his last dose of morphine at four pm, meaning it would be four to six hours before the effects, if any, would show. Hoping that nothing major would happen, Seokjin left for the cafeteria to get something to eat and begin a new assignment for work. He buried himself in these tasks as if they were impossible to do without complete, total attention. In the end, Seokjin managed to chip two whole hours off of his wait. 

Seokjin laid his head down on the table with a sigh. He was exhausted. His eyes burned, his head pounded, and it took meditative breathing to keep himself from bursting into tears over how uncomfortable he was. All he wanted to do was go home and sleep, but the still working part of his brain told him he would regret it if he left. 

His thoughts jumbled and then stopped altogether. For a moment, he felt nothing. The blackness behind his eyelids was soothing, and even the words of the families around him faded to metaphorical darkness. 

That was until someone was shaking his shoulder, saying, “Mr. Kim? Kim Seokjin?” 

“Hmm?” Seokjin mumbled, blinking his foggy eyes open to try and see who was speaking to him. Ah, he had fallen asleep. It really had been blissfully quiet. 

“I’m one of Beomgyu’s nurses. I came down to fetch you because I’m sure you wouldn’t want to miss this moment,” The woman said, helping him gather his belongings so they could get going. Seokjin took a deep breath to try and force down the lingering desire to go back to sleep before lifting himself up to take over for her. 

They walked side by side back up to the NICU, and the whole time Seokjin was cautiously optimistic about what he was going to see. Maybe Beomgyu was only shaking a little, and his cries were a bit less constant. Perhaps he was less tense this time. Nothing prepared Seokjin for the moment that the nurse opened the door for him, and he laid his eyes on what was awaiting him. 

“ _Oh,_ ” Seokjin sighed, his eyes wide and already beginning to water. Beomgyu was lying in his bassinet, unhooked from all but the heart rate monitor and the pulse oximeter on his foot. To Seokjin’s immense surprise, he wasn’t shaking more than an almost imperceptible tremor, and his arms and legs were still flailing like the newborns in the rooms upstairs. His skin had not yellowed, his eyes were still white, and he _wasn’t crying_. 

“It’s been about two hours since the morphine should have worn off. I’d say he’s just about made it,” The nurse said, patting Seokjin on the back. 

“Can I hold him?” Seokjin asked.

“He’s all yours.”

Seokjin had promised himself that he would go home once he was sure that Beomgyu was okay, but now that he knew, it was almost as if it was harder to go. Seokjin was afraid that now that Beomgyu was feeling better, if Seokjin left and didn’t return as often, that Beomgyu would begin to think that Seokjin was only there if he wasn’t feeling good. 

It seemed too complicated for a baby still treading under the one month mark, but didn’t every action matter, even from the first few moments of life? Seokjin couldn’t bear to think of Beomgyu waking up crying because he was hungry, and instead of Seokjin, it was just another nurse there to feed him. 

No, Beomgyu getting better didn’t make any difference. Beomgyu was still his baby, and his baby needed him. He couldn’t just leave. 

“I hear you slept for four hours in the cafeteria. The custodian kept shooing people away from you because you looked that miserable,” The nurse came back and sat down beside him. Great, if it wasn’t Jeongguk, it was the nurses. 

“Did my brother tell all of you to get on me about sleep?” Seokjin asked, trying to sound as if he was joking. He wasn’t sure if it came across that way. 

“Not me, but a few others. I heard through the grapevine. He will be okay if you want to go home and finish that almost full night’s sleep you got,” The nurse said, but Seokjin couldn’t bear the thought of leaving his baby again. 

Wasn’t it supposed to be the baby that had separation anxiety?

“Mr. Kim, think about it this way. You go home, get a good night’s sleep, and you come back tomorrow morning at seven am like always and spend the rest of the day with him. Then, you go home at nine, get another good night’s sleep, and come spend a few _hours_ with him. You know why I say that? Because if things keep trending in the right direction, you’ll get to take him home, and you need all the sleep you can get before then. Go. Get his room ready, buy him some nice toys, get your roommates all pumped for the party. I don’t want to see you again until seven at least.”

Seokjin could hardly breathe through the tears biting behind his eyes. Hearing things like ‘Beomgyu’ and ‘home’ together were not things he heard only a few weeks prior. Seokjin just nodded and reluctantly handed his baby over to the nurse before gathering his things and rushing to the door. He couldn’t say goodbye, or thank you, or even throw a glance behind himself. If he did, he wouldn’t have been able to leave.

Dammit, he had a nursery to finish. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> https://www.buymeacoffee.com/meltediceangel (helps pay for medical school)
> 
> So, I know it would make more sense to research Korea's system for discharge, medicine dosages, NAS scores, doctor-patient relationships, and what-not, but I looked at my statistics and I see that most of you are from the United States, so I tried my absolute best to research what it was like there. I couldn't find a lot of what I wanted, especially with time frames, how they let you know you'll be discharged, etc., I just know the time-frame from the last morphine dosage to the discharge date being 24-48 hours. I'm not sure if ANY of you actually care about the details, but A LOT of you have commented on how much you appreciated research going into to this story, so I'm trying not to disappoint! I even found someone and had a really long, genuine conversation with them about fostering addicted babies and how it looked and felt, and I genuinely appreciate her guidance. 
> 
> She actually let me know that I, in fact, have something wrong in this story that was also misrepresented in Long Lasting. Foster parents actually have their OWN social worker, as well as the baby having their own social worker. I can't decide if I want to retroactively fix this by making Mrs. Moon Seokjin's social worker, or by keeping her as Beomgyu's and just introducing Seokjin's social worker later. Regardless, I have become very attached to my image of Mrs. Moon, and it's going to be hard creating someone I love just as much!

**Author's Note:**

> https://www.buymeacoffee.com/meltediceangel (helps pay for medical school)


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